


Coldness Seeping Through

by Prachtmeer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Arguing, Cussing, Howard Stark is omnipresent, M/M, No happy end, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel), Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Steve sends Voicemails, Stony - Freeform, Tony Has Issues, Tony sends angry text messages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4847729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prachtmeer/pseuds/Prachtmeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Iron Man asks his fellow Avengers to move into Stark Tower with him, the one person he really wants to do so declines.</p><p>aka. Tony does not deal well with rejection and Steve does not deal well with 21st century customs. Misunderstanding ensues. Angry Voicemails and text messages are sent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coldness Seeping Through

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the 25th birthday of a good friend and fellow Stony shipper! Happy Birthday and stay the way you are, girl!
> 
> This is not beta read, so all possible mistakes are mine.

  


 

The moment it all started, or better came crashing down before it even had a chance to start, was shortly after the infamous battle, that all Avengers only referred to as the “New York Incident”.

Iron Man, generous as ever, had asked all of his teammates to move into Stark Tower with him, and Steve, the only single person Stark really wanted to keep around, of course only because Tony felt responsible for throwing him into this time-period without warning and _totally not_ because of the enormous crush he'd also been harbouring for the blond super-soldier since his teenage days, had politely declined, talking about keeping their "relationship professional".

Which was expected. Somehow. But it still stung and Anthony Edward Stark was no one to deal well with rejection, his usual coping strategy being a mix of getting drunk on cheap Whiskey and stubbornly refusing all phone calls from his teammates and even Pepper for a whooping 48 hours, which was not even a new record, but an action deemed necessary, as Tony would put it.

 

When he finally woke up after his patented 48-hour-problem-suppressing-binge-drinking-extravaganza, the headache he had to face was far worse than everything he had recently felt, including him falling from space, dying and coming back to life, the usual stuff, as he would say.

“Jarvis, status” he growled, shielding his eyes from the blinding daylight.

“Master Stark, it is 10am on a Wednesday and according to my calculations your blood alcohol level right now is at 0,130 percent, which, in your terms, is close to sober. I still would recommend drinking some mineral water.” 

“Yeah, yeah, nearly sober, that explains the headache, thanks J, anything important while I was... occupied?” Tony murmured. 

“You have 36 missed calls, 12 of it from Miss Potts, including 2 of her very angry voicemails, which I would classify as Defcon 1, Sir.” 

“And otherwise?” the man asked, only a tad hopeful. 

“Otherwise you have 84 unread text messages, mostly unimportant. There are also a couple of voicemails by Captain Rogers, should I classify them as unimportant, too?” 

“NO!-” Tony all but yelled, before remembering his pounding headache and quickly hushing his voice. “No. Play them to me now, chronological oder”, he whispered, then. 

“Of course, Master Stark”, the ever-polite AI replied.

 

_-Good evening Mr. Stark,_

_Miss Potts urged me to call you, she said you seemed quite upset about something earlier this day and as your team Captain, I want to inquire what caused that and make sure that you are well. Please make contact with me as soon as you hear this message._

_Regards,_

_Captain Steve Rogers-_

 

Tony snorted, as he heard the message.

Of course Steve, the golden boy, not only had mastered leaving voicemails way before any other person who was catapulted into the future would have, but he also made them sound like he was reading an official letter, complete with the greeting and everything. To Tony it sounded nearly clinical, like a call from Coulson or any other S.H.I.E.L.D.-agent, not like the call of a worried teammate.

With newly-fuelled anger, he begrudgingly waved his hand at the screen to hear the next message Steve sent him.

 

_-Hello Mr. Stark,_

_Steve Rogers here again. You still haven't contacted me after my last message, which I left you 45 minutes ago. Miss Potts and I are concerned, please get in contact with me as soon as you can! I hope that you are well and will tell me what is going on with you at the moment._

_Regards,_

_Steve Rogers-_

 

“You are one insistent, nosy, little Captain, aren't you?” Tony scoffed.  There was no reason for Steve to be so interested in his well-being or what he was doing in his spare-time, because this was not Avengers-business at all, he thought, and felt anger and the renewed sting of the former rejection slowly pool again in his stomach.

If this man didn't even want to live at his place, despite of not even having any other real place to stay, then why would he really be interested in what was going on in Tony's life. Surely it must have been Pepper, who had forced him to send this voicemails, which, in his eyes, would not only make Steve a hypocrite, but a coward, too, Tony angrily thought.

 

“Jarvis, how many more are there?” Stark asked his AI, with increasing irritation. 

“There are currently 2 more voicemails by Captain Rogers, Sir. Do you want to listen to them now or should I postpone them until you are in a... more  _approachable_ state of mind?”.

“What? No, play them to me now, goddammit! I'm a grown ass man, why is everyone concerned about my state of mind recently? And YES, that was a rhetorical question, and NO I don't want to hear an answer, J.”

“Of course Sir.” the AI replied, and Tony could have sworn that he heard a small sigh at the end. He quickly shook his head and decided to listen to the remaining messages.

 

_-Tony, what is going on, I need you to get in contact with me right now...-_

Huh, that was new. No more “Good evenings” and “Mr. Starks”, Steve sounded genuinely concerned and even a little bit alarmed, Tony noticed, surprised.

_-...Jarvis told me that you locked yourself in your workshop for the last 8 hours and that you are not working on any projects, and after further inquiry from me, he told me to research the wikipedia articles on 'Binge drinking' and 'Social Rejection', which I read, and now I am even more worried! Tony, this is not about the not-moving-in-thing is it? Because if it is, you should call me RIGHT now!-_

 

“Jarvis, you traitor!”, Tony angrily yelled at the ceiling. “You should keep these people away from me when I need some... _alone time_ , not tell them what I am doing!”

“I merely suggested these articles to Captain Rogers, I did not explicitly tell him to read them, and so I did not betray you in any way, Master Stark”, the AI smugly replied. To that, Tony mumbled something to himself which sounded an awful lot like “stupid AI being too smart for his own good” and “major software reprogramming”. 

 

“Master Stark, do you want me to play the last voicemail? It's rather long and...intense, in comparison.”, Jarvis asked, seemingly unfazed by the threat, but still a bit hesitating. 

“Yes, yes, let's get this over with.” Tony all but sighed.

 

_ -This is about the moving-in-thing, isn't it? Tony, listen, I know that you are getting drunk in your workshop right now and that's why you should man the hell up and talk to me about this! You are always so fast in your assumptions, just like your father, why can't you just, only for one second in your life, not assume that something is _ _ about yourself...- _ the recorded voice of Steve Rogers all but yelled at him, accusingly, then continued in a quieter, more sighing tone 

_ -I really did not want to do this over the phone but you leave me no choice, as you are hiding in your workshop.- _

 

“STOP THE VOICEMAIL!!” Tony screamed, anger seeping out of him uncontrollably as he suddenly felt cut open and vulnerable, like he hadn't felt in ages. 

Steve Rogers, hero of his childhood and archetype of everything good in the world, did not only tell him to “man the hell up”, but he also pulled the “Howard-Stark-Card” and told him very clearly that, in Steve's world, absolutely nothing revolved around Tony Stark and that he was an idiot for assuming the latter.

He suddenly felt absolutely nauseous and deeply regretted being sober again, already. How could he even have assumed, that Captain America, the Star Spangled Man himself, would take an interest in living with him, an alcoholic, narcissistic overall failure, whose only claim to fame was being Howard Stark's son. “Stupid, stupid” his inner voices chided him relentlessly and Tony Stark quickly decided to drink himself into unconsciousness later.

 

“Master Stark, should I store the voicemail for you?” Jarvis broke him out of his downward spiral just at the right moment. 

“What?!  _ No! _ Why the hell would I want to listen to that again?” 

“Sir, I am not telling you to listen to it  _ again _ , I am much rather recommending listening to it entirely.” the AI carefully answered.

“Delete it.”, the man barked. “Sir, you should really-” “Delete. It. Now.”, Tony all but hissed. 

“As you wish, Master Stark.”, the ever-obedient Jarvis sighed.

“Thank you, Jarvis. And now excuse me, as I have an urgent date with Mr. Jack Daniels.”

 

~

 

Five hours later, as he lay on his too small bed in his brand new, crappy S.H.I.E.L.D-assigned apartment, Steve Rogers stared blankly at his phone, re-reading the text he received from Tony, just seconds ago, for the umpteenth time, still feeling like someone had punched him in the gut.

 

_-Good evening, perfect Mr. Rogers._

_As you have so eloquently pointed out, I really am thinking a lot about myself, which is what normal people tend to do in this century, not that you would know that!_

_You know Cap, not everyone wants to be as perfect as you and I don't need to “man the fuck up” and prove this to you, because I don't owe you shit!! You should keep the fuck out of my personal business and stop harassing me while I get shit-faced, which I can do whenever the fuck I want, because I am a grown-ass man and, as you have also pointed out, don't give a shit about anyone else. And in this case I am JUST like my father, so somehow you were even fucking right while you were being fucking wrong. But I tell you something. You did not know Howard as 'good' as I knew him, so don't you ever dare to compare me to him again or even just mention him to me in this way._

_I don't need your mocking or your pity and clearly not your goddamn hypocritical worries. So stop fucking calling me and lets keep our “relationship professional”, oh great Captain America._

_My best regards, Tony Stark.-_

 

Without needing a proof of it, Steve was sure that Tony was absolutely wasted while he “wrote” this message, or more probably angrily dictated it to Jarvis, telling by the lack of spelling errors, but somehow this hurt him even more.

 

From his time in the army he'd learned that people tended to be the most honest when drunk, when they lost all their inhibitions, and he had the unmistakable feeling that this was _exactly_ what had happened to his team colleague at the time this message was written, he just couldn't understand what had caused it.

He recalled the voicemail he sent to Tony over and over in his head, enhanced memory really had its perks, he bitterly thought, but could not put his finger on the words that made Tony snap, even if his life would have depended on it, and with every new try to find them, the lump in his throat got larger and larger.

“I don't understand you, Tony”, the super-soldier sadly whispered, before he finally put the phone away, to not torture himself even more with re-reading Stark's message all over again. 

 

As he lay on his bed and stared grimly at the ceiling, Steve slowly felt small tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, more out of anger than out of sadness, because he wasn't able to figure out the simplest reactions from his teammates, his friends, as he thought, and he suddenly felt incredibly lost and alien to the customs of this century.

Coldness was slowly creeping into his body and he realized in this moment, that it felt like he was still trapped in the ice, so helpless and weak, embraced by a freeze that never seemed to thaw, and overall absolutely, entirely, soul crushingly alone.

 

 

~

 

 

_-This is about the moving-in-thing, isn't it? Tony, listen, I know that you are getting drunk in your workshop right now and that's why you should man the hell up and talk to me about this! You are always so fast in your assumptions, just like your father, why can't you just, only for one second in your life, not assume that something is about yourself._

_I really did not want to do this over the phone but you leave me no choice, as you are hiding in your workshop- so now you will listen to me. -sigh-_

_Look Tony, sorry about the little outburst, but you are really making me worried right now and I am not used to talking to someone on the phone without really talking to them, it's irritating. All I wanted to say is that, when you asked me about moving into Stark Tower, my answer was not “no” because of you but because of me... man that sounds stupid, let me restart, ok?_

_I said no to it, because I am not used to simply saying yes to things like these, big offers like these, especially not from a Stark... Wow, I am not making it better, am I? -sigh-_

_You know, back when I worked with your father Howard, he tried to jokingly bribe me into a lot of things, tried to buy and give me lots of stuff I really did not deserve, because that was his nature and who he was, and so I developed the habit to principally decline everything expensive or lavish that is offered to me._

_Because it is just a happy coincidence that I am who I am right now, that someone would even deem me worthy to have these things, you understand? I've never had a lot when I was young, before Captain America, and it's still very hard for me to accept generosity aimed towards me. -deep sigh-_

_When you asked me to move into Stark Tower, you suddenly reminded me very much of Howard, that's why I declined before thinking too much about it._

_And that's also why I knew right after the words left my mouth, that you would take it personal. So I even reckoned that you would be out of sorts with me for a while, but I did not expect it to have such an impact on you..._

_Look Tony, all I really want to say is that I am sorry. I am sorry for making you feel rejected, when you were just trying to be a friend. I was so busy with falling back into my old habits of refusing these kind of things, that I did not notice that I might really need some good friends in this century and that it would be stupid to brush off a genuine offer like this, like I did. -sigh-_

_Maybe tomorrow we could talk this out in person? And maybe the offering of me being allowed to move in still stands? Because the appartment S.H.I.E.L.D gave me is really... quiet. Please call me back as soon as you hear this message, Tony, and take care. Goodbye, Steve.-_

 

_~_

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I ever posted, so comments, kudos or constructive criticism are very welcome.  
> Maybe I will write a second part with a happy ending, I just can't stand seeing my poor babies suffer for too long!  
> Thank you for reading :)


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